Parson Thru II
By Parson Thru
Writing is a means of subverting my life.
2012 Outpourings. All works Copyright Kevin Buckle 2012
See me also at http://www.parsonthru.com/wordpress/
- 2642 reads
Wednesday Morning Part 2
“Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God”
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- 2480 reads
..to protect the innocent
My head is wild with mustangs storming over prairie grass
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- 1404 reads
7 June, 4pm
Diagnosed myself with grotesque tiredness and loss of interest. Wind blows the leaves endlessly outside. Conspiring whispers in billowing green. This is summer. Rain lashing,
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- 1445 reads
A glimpse of Paradise
Until early summer fully dresses the trees, from the windows of our flat I see the kind of sunsets that I used to dream of.
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- 1650 reads
A place they call home
Rubber on the road Blood on the tracks I'm in the same town as my bed
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- 601 reads
Abraham Jones - Pt 2
Continuation from part 1 (Parson Thru I collection - Aug 2011).
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- 601 reads
Abraham Jones - Pt 3
Abraham Jones opened his eyes.
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- 5006 reads
Accidental voyeur 1
She stood in the kitchen ironing Dark hair neatly combed back Tumbling on gently squared shoulders
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- 2048 reads
Accidental voyeur 2
Stephan walked out of the room in his shorts as I stirred from my sleep on the bone-aching floor (updated)
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- 3040 reads
Archangel Gabriel
Carried aloft by the shining angels of landfill (updated)
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- 3639 reads
Baking hot days with mother
Standing in me shorts (1) 20 years on.
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- 651 reads
Baltic night
On crossing the frozen Baltic. Tallinn to St Petersburg.
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- 854 reads
Blue
I had a cat named 'Blue' rhymed with Kalamazoo Grey with stripes a tabby My mother hated cats a family thing One suffocated a child allegedly But he was only six weeks old A kitten
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- 2297 reads
Buy me a horsey
The hidden door. 20 years on.
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- 1234 reads
Career path
Snack-room chat
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- 1110 reads
Chestnut tree
Leaning against the station wall pinching a cigarette.
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- 885 reads
Cirque d'Obscene
Welcome! to the Cirque d'Obscene where the ugly procure the unsightly and Romantics should never be seen
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- 3705 reads
Como se llama?
Patron saint of lost causes. Who was that?
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- 1444 reads
Confused
If only I wasn't so confused I'd give you a piece of my mind But I can't work all this out myself So to harangue would be unkind
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- 1204 reads
Daffodils
The daffodils on the traffic island raise their heads towards the skies and listen.
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- 980 reads
The smell of honest work
From a distance I watch recall machinery modest men and the smell of honest work (WIP Jan 2012)
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- 2941 reads
Mirage
A re-write. I think the subject has some mileage, but struggling with the execution.
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- 1676 reads
The Hours in Context
Time cannot exist without context.
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- 793 reads
Time on my hands
Inspired by 'In the Baggage Room at Geyhound' (Ginsberg).
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- 953 reads
Dreaming
Today,it was mainly Wednesday.
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- 958 reads
The Fall
Falling Falling Passing nothing Touching nothing ever again but empty space and air Rushing, deafening air And the ground eight miles down And I know that I’m dying Legs running
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- 653 reads
So long
Think I'm finally out of ink threw in everything but the kitchen sink (tempted to use everythink but unnatural as not from London and thought it might just cause a stink).
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- 1171 reads
Levels
Above the mist, the grey-green ghosts of Polden elms stand silent over salted fields And somewhere overhead a heron cuts a dead straight path to shining ponds from ages past
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- 1258 reads
Funny world
Can't think of anything to say really. Except same shit, different day maybe. But then, someone I know saved a life today. Or nearly. She tried. But she tries every day.
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- 982 reads
The dream
Come in Kevin. Thank you, Christine. Could you bring two teas please? White no sugar, isn't it Kevin?
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- 860 reads
Hey! Watch my ziggurat
Re-posted under 'poems'
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- 845 reads
I suppose I have a dream
I suppose I have a dream of some sort. I carry it around from place to place like my own personal Star of Bethlehem.
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- 3430 reads
Sixty Days
I've chopped it all up again!!!
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- 712 reads
The clocks go forward
I'll be ok tommorrow. Or maybe the next day...
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- 1258 reads
Gittin' along
Apologies in advance...
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- 688 reads
Self actualising individuals
Why aren't you in the fuel queue?
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- 1711 reads
Dreaming of summer
Sitting on the sofa, dreaming, drinking tea. I’m 5 and perched on a wall in Rawcliffe. The summer street is alive with love, blue sky, brand new bright red bricks
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- 1772 reads
Wanderlust
Only fear can hold us back
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- 841 reads
Walking up the hill
Shortie
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- 677 reads
Drop-dead gorgeous
What if I’ve had my day? …it’s finished? …I'm done? No more notes to play? …no other song to be sung? …my race is already run? Pure, empty …silence
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- 976 reads
On! On!
Foo-Man, 22, blew out smoke shook his match looked me in the eye and said:
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- 1172 reads
The tomb of the unknown poet
The Wealthy have never been so rich screams the Sunday Telegraph from Monday’s stinking ditch
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- 1312 reads
Pocket-money
My mother reminds me that when I was very young I gave all my pocket-money to a man who'd been given an accordion instead of legs Forty years on I have to wonder why I still care
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- 1408 reads
Terror in the Glen
RLP's 10 line Challenge
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- 1560 reads
Unseen
Just playing... [innocence and growing up, maybe?]
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- 1239 reads
Ma cherie
They starve for their art (between meals)
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- 1556 reads
Generation Icarus
Sorry, got to dash...
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- 1174 reads
Stop Moaning and Work Harder
The Waxworks Politician - caricature Margston Thatchill - says Stop Moaning and Work Harder
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- 1006 reads
Dreaming of my dad
I’d forgotten how much he said with his eyes. A man of few words. Happy to sit most of the time in his window seat, reading his paper or lost in contemplation.
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- 4975 reads
Peristalsis
Life and loves and reflex motion
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- 1863 reads
In the Blender
Standing in me shorts (2) 20 years on.
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- 533 reads
Just friends
Just friends, no more and if we pushed too hard it wouldn’t be the same we’d inflict pain and after sex we’d have our first row and everyone would know we’d gone too far somehow
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- 2597 reads
Good days, bad days
Some worse than others.
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- 1245 reads
Friday Night Gripes
Take me to bed. I've seen enough.
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- 882 reads
Wherewithat
Just had this idea. Is it worth continuing?
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- 1502 reads
Wherewithat 2
There was no one left alive who could remember the devastating waves of disease that had brought humanity to its knees.
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- 739 reads
Wherewithat 4
Heti Flaardvoorst walked briskly to the apartment door knowing that things were about to change in a way that she could not control.
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- 690 reads
Flaming June
Hello summer.
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- 4333 reads
Wherewithat 5
Marthi Flaardvoorst stumbled along the narrow forest track between the two women, Hope nimbly leading.
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- 634 reads
Wherewithat 6
Amy Orton was happy in her work. Painstaking clerical detail isn't everyone's thing, but Amy loved to absorb herself.
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- 1434 reads
Wherewithat 7
Marthi Flaardvoorst sat in the clearing trying to collect his thoughts.
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- 626 reads
Open sore
I can’t make you happy. Can’t return the childhood that you lost.
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- 2511 reads
Let's face it
Thoughts on a platform
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- 1613 reads
Living under a cloud
More thoughts on a platform
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- 1310 reads
The test drive
Everyone needs a vehicle and there's a vehicle for everyone.
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- 962 reads
Shall we open the wine?
Family lunch at the Thru household
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- 536 reads
Monday, 16:55
Further thoughts on a platform
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- 1155 reads
Foxtrot Oscar
How does that sound?
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- 1523 reads
Marion's hairbrush
Blackened silver plate and matted bristles stare accusingly from foetid water in the shared recycling bin
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- 4366 reads
Matryoshka
Revisiting my past and searching for the person inside the shell. Are you feeling unfulfilled?
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- 863 reads
Spontaneous garbage
Don't blame me. I only typed it.
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- 3573 reads
The Shard
Congratulations on a fine monument
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- 1848 reads
Twayem
Why would a person want to be in bed?
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- 2781 reads
Send no flowers
Quicky thru the train window.
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- 1904 reads
If...
If you can sit above all the hard work and claim it for your own You'll be a man ager, my son. Profuse apologies to RK Really, really terribly sorry.
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- 1129 reads
Vox et Praeterea Nihil - or The Night I Lost My Naivety
A true story of youthful dreams shattered
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- 1027 reads
Weighing our love
A love poem - make the most of it!
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- 3210 reads
Had a Chianti accident
Had a Chianti accident on the the white wool carpet last night It's OK It's fine now We sprinkled on a little salt used some cleaner and the Chianti's OK
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- 1212 reads
I deleted a poem
Ramblings in a sleepless night
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- 1187 reads
Totterdown
Brown and terracotta tiles mount the hill like steps to the shrine of St. Elias
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- 5810 reads
Delivery-man
Spread a little happiness (updated)
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- 2041 reads
Memo to Daryl
Keeping one's end up
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- 1517 reads
Lisa, you have a helicopter
Lisa, you have a helicopter How nice Looks like a dragonfy
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- 881 reads
Season's change
I walked to the station today and my head was filled with gloom
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- 1197 reads
Wake up!
It’s only a poem Wake up! Wake up!
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- 750 reads
It's a real mess
This was never a happy home and now it's not a home at all
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- 1210 reads
The leaking ship
My heart breaks as history repeats itself (clarified a little)
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- 961 reads
Luna
This might set him spinning (good for cooling in space) **Final verse added
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- 1490 reads
See you all again
Remember to book early
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- 812 reads
Vortices
Saw two twisters over our quiet seaside town today, by Jove! Crazy weather. Crazy!
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- 1233 reads
Vortices (less long)
You would be forgiven for hating this. Trimmed and (maybe) improved reading. Maybe you'll hate it less.
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- 471 reads
Duty and Obligation
Duty and obligation. It's what keeps me where I am. I've got to live a little first. Before it kills me. And it will. I remember the first time I hit London's Underground. King's Cross.
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- 907 reads
The frustrated ex-pat
Happy Birthday Nicola, Madrid Sep 2012. To all ex-pats.
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- 1125 reads
Up to you
Laugh or butcher each other. It's up to you.
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- 855 reads
Suspended existence
Seven miles above the Alps I take my pen and begin to write
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- 877 reads
If only we could remember the poems that we dream
Can you imagine that? To wake and not have missed a single word? I need a dream stenographer. Dream Secretary.
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- 931 reads
The old part of town
I look down in the old part of town and I see only age and dirt
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- 1109 reads
Wednesday Morning Part 1
From a bench
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- 5 comments
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- 1332 reads
Luna – ode to a lost dream
Another attempt to get this right
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- 5 comments
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- 1676 reads
Not too late yet
Don't let them take it all back
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- 1195 reads
Portraits of hatred 1
# 1 of 3
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- 770 reads
Portraits of hatred 2
# 2 of 3
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- 1 comment
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- 570 reads
Portraits of hatred 3
# 3 of 3
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- 14 comments
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- 2999 reads
Visiting Jack
What did you die for, Jack? I ask as I sit by your grave a long way from home and take in the sun and the cooling breeze of a French morning like you would have known
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- 2723 reads
The Recidivist
Payslips line the walls Addiction holds me from the very first embrace
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- 973 reads
Twinkle
My contribution to tomorrow's Poetry Day. Acknowledgements as appropriate to the original author. Posting early in case flu takes me before 4 Oct.
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- 900 reads
Re-visiting Jack
What did you die for, Jack? I ask as I sit myself at your grave-side to rest my aches and pains Liberated from meter (almost) - I may have finished tweaking, for now!
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- 2200 reads
The Flood
The animals came in two-by-two and the sky began to darken
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- 8 comments
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- 1824 reads
Funeral
There must be a funeral going on somewhere Miserable day for it
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- 2665 reads
What did you die for Jack?
Rewrite 7 October 2012
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- 4499 reads
So shall they fall
Massacre of workers' rights: Resistance is vulgar TV is nice The bullet always has someone else's name on it So shall they fall
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- 1620 reads
Grief
He swapped a life filled with faces for a head filled with voices
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- 1355 reads
Troubled
I couldn't sleep tonight for the terrific giraffe coming in through the window upsetting the acacia in its pot and disturbing the elephants huddled like statues in the dark
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- 1692 reads
Thought prior to reading War and Peace
Tiredness overcomes sleep.
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- 799 reads
Taking a spin
I hadn’t seen David for a while. Years, in fact. I was surprised when he asked me if I wanted to go for a spin. Well, maybe not surprised so much as delighted.
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- 1195 reads
Servant
You tell me that I'm lazy I say that you are crazy
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- 1761 reads
Savage duality
Chopped up
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- 1388 reads
Equal measure
Living in a doorway has its own attractions Sovereign of myself and despised by everything around me in equal measure
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- 1197 reads
Things to tell your mother
Ring her now if you are lucky enough to be able to
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- 7 comments
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- 1616 reads
Form
No curve of the Earth holds such grace as the form of she who walks upon it
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- 921 reads
The madness of King Commute
Searching for comfort on Platform 15
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- 18 comments
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- 2988 reads
Don't look down
Eat your breakfast before it gets cold
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- 5 comments
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- 1508 reads
Management for Beginners
Management is a game to keep us entertained and occupied between launching into catastrophic wars And lacking suitably qualified people is applied in a Fordist broken-down-to-nuts-and-bolts
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- 7 comments
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- 1506 reads
Le balcon
Who'll stop the rain? (Acknowledgements etc. to Creedence)
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- 6 comments
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- 1348 reads
Ghosts
I trod cautiously along one side of the mound, made my usual apologies and poured water from the can over the marble stone. The rain and wind always left a dull film.
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- 1048 reads
Song of the night
I listen as your simple playing speaks to me of decades past It fills my heart and sings its song across the night It haunts me Makes the darkness dance around my bed
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- 1743 reads
The visitor
Strange lights in the sky
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- 10 comments
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- 2041 reads
Sunset
Long and lingering on the west coast Changed it again. Scratch, scratch.
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- 611 reads
The great irony
Toeing the line
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- 14 comments
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- 2938 reads
Spirit of Africa
Your heart is Africa before the map
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- 5 comments
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- 1257 reads
Sighs of an elephant
I am your life You are my reflection We turn and face the gaping dawn
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- 6 comments
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- 1292 reads
They don't make Hoovers like that anymore
I thought I saw a Hoover Junior go by Heavy, metallic in the corner of my eye
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- 648 reads
Hush, Belladonna
Postcard from Berlin.
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- 825 reads
There she goes
There she goes Driving off in her office clothes
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- 3 comments
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- 885 reads
Glide through
Glide through ghost of Tangmere The job is done
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- 429 reads
Monday
I arrived into the office full of the usual start of week melancholy and immediately detected a far deeper gloom already present.
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- 1060 reads
Monday (2)
I laboured through the day.
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- 3 comments
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- 1042 reads
Monday (3)
I had a thought.
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- 9 comments
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- 2222 reads
GCSE Modern History Study Notes - Part 1 of 1
Prep notes for GCSE Modern History and Languages
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- 752 reads
Filling time
They wander about like dogs in the park snapping, snarling and sniffing under each other's tails interested only in the next meal or copulation
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- 620 reads
Haven't you got any work to do?
Lamentable lament. God's way of telling you it's time to take a shower and make dinner.
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- 847 reads
Parenthood
Parenthood is the art of screwing up the next generation
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- 2 comments
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- 767 reads
The boy who waved at silver cars
He lay in a field and gazed at stars
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- 3 comments
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- 943 reads
Fairway
Time cannot change you
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- 6 comments
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- 1180 reads
It's Christmas-time!
Bah, humbug?
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- 2 comments
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- 716 reads
Places to go
I'm one of the luckiest people I know
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- 8 comments
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- 2031 reads
The Mirror
There is still something in you, about 20 per cent, that stares victory in the face and walks away; that will not recognise itself.
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- 335 reads
Infinity and the universe
People ask about infinity and the universe: the universe will end for each of us at death and that is all that matters.
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- 3 comments
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- 744 reads